Senior Year
by Soaring Knight With A Bullet
Summary: "I guess this is it, Skinner. No more epic adventures, no more goofing off and getting into trouble. Just Bucket goes to high school." "And Skinner." "And Skinner goes to high school. But not Bucket and Skinner go to high school." Sucket.
1. Day One

**Author's Note: **Hi. I write fanfiction. :3 But most of you knew that. I'm in a weird mood right now, sorry. Um, this is my first Bucket & Skinner fic. It's a little daunting because there's so little written for the fandom so I feel the pressure to be a good writer and impress you guys. This fic idea came to me when I was showering, actually, and it's kind of formed into a full fledged fantasy for me that I have fun imagining. I hope this takes off to where I can write a sequel because I actually really love the story for this and all the things I've imagined so far. Don't mind my bits of speculation here and there. I had to come up with some things that filled in the little holes. Things like giving Bucket and Skinner first names because it's my theory that Bucket and Skinner are their last names that they go by.

As always, you can find me on tumblr. Just visit my profile and find the link to it there. My tumblr has writing updates and it's the fastest way to talk to me and get to know me if you're interested. I'm a nice person, honest. I like hot weather, moonlit walks, and terrorizing my cat until he smacks me in the face. So yeah ... Enjoy the first chapter of Senior Year, and don't forget to review! It gives me the warm and fuzzies.

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><p>Senior year is supposed to be the time of your life. Fewer classes, little to no worries about college, and the only real trouble they can pin on you is participating in senior skip day. How was it, then, that Bucket was trudging his feet as he took the last few steps of summer vacation before school really started. He didn't want to go in; he didn't want to face another year of school. He was dreading something about this particular year. It wasn't even the fact that Kelly wasn't around anymore: she'd graduated two years prior, and she was practically engaged to her fancy college boyfriend. Bucket was spiteful, sure, but he couldn't do anything about it. He was happy for her because she was happy, but it didn't stop the small part that said she should have been with him.<p>

Whatever. No sense in thinking about it now. The brunet teen went through the main doors, hands in his pockets and eyes searching for his best friend. Everyone looked different than he remembered. Girls were perkier, guys looked greasier, and every five lockers there was a couple making out with each other pressed up against the wall. More reason for him to feel spiteful about life: he'd never had a girlfriend. Even Skinner had had a brief romance over the summer between sophomore and junior year. It didn't last, mostly because she was only visiting and left, but the two were pen pals or something. And then there was Bucket, forever awkward around girls and a stuttering mess when one even looked in his direction.

"Bucket! Over here, bro!" _Ker-thump._

Oh yeah. There was that too. Bucket turned and locked eyes with Skinner, smiling a bit and waving. His heart sped up the slightest bit as he made his way over. Skinner had his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and it was still damp from his morning surf. He even smelled like salt water, and his board was probably in the back of his junky station wagon in the parking lot. Recently, Bucket tried to avoid morning surfs and car rides with his friend. He couldn't be blamed if just being around Skinner set off this little "heart condition", as he called it. He was in denial a bit about having a crush on his best friend of fifteen years. The brunet knew it was there, he just didn't like to acknowledge its existence.

"Hey, bro. How's the surf?" Bucket bumped fists with Skinner and grinned. As the blond went off into fierce detail about the morning surf, Bucket took his time in admiring his friend while he wasn't paying attention. He leaned back against the lockers behind him and shamelessly stared at his best friend's face. The years had been kind to him, and the way the loose hairs from his ponytail framed his face, Bucket felt like he wasn't looking at his best friend anymore, but maybe his older brother.

"And I swear, the waves were like 80 feet high." Skinner finished talking with a smile, his shoulders wiggling a bit in an excited way. Some things in life never changed. Bucket nodded and grinned, patting his taller friend on the shoulder. "So is your locker here?" The blond pointed to the row of lockers behind them, and Bucket had to fish in his pockets for his schedule and locker information. When he found it, he looked at the numbers on the lockers. He was in the 480's right now and his locker was …

"Oh no." Bucket stared at the ugly number 965 and pressed the paper to his chest. "My locker's on the other side of the school, man." Skinner grabbed the paper from his brunet friend and read it over. "How could this happen? We've always been locker neighbors! Why do they have to pick _this_ year to separate us?"

"Oh, don't worry bro. We'll sort it out during lunch. At least we have the same lunch period."

"Any other classes together?" Bucket looked over the top of his schedule with hope, eyes darting from the paper to Skinner's face. He didn't like the way his friend's mouth was slowly curving down into a frown. "Nothing?"

"Nothing. Not even chemistry. How am I gonna make it through chemistry without you being my lab partner?" The first warning bell rang, and Bucket grabbed the paper from his friend. He had to run to get to his locker and get to his first class.

"Worst. School year. Ever."

**_BLAHBLAHBLAH SKIP TIME RIGHT HERE_**

The cafeteria was an enormously large room. It took up and entire wing of the building and with good reason, since it also doubled as the school assembly room. It was big enough to fit all of the occupants, high school and middle school, in one room, and the stage at one end was where all of the big things took place like pep rallies and the annual motivational speakers. Mostly, the stage was used as a place for the students to sit during lunch, but you had to get there early enough to actually get a spot because everyone wanted to sit up there. Bucket's last class was right down the hall from the cafeteria, so he was one of the first down there, not caring about his books since he had P.E. after lunch. He wanted to wait here for Skinner, eager to just see him after such a long and almost murderous first half of the day without him. He hated being apart like this. They'd never been apart for so many years, and now to suddenly only see each other at lunch and in passing at school was just plain cruel.

From the corner of his eye, Bucket caught sight of Piper, Kelly's younger sister, with her group of freshman lackeys following her to a table. She was a sophomore this year, but she ruled the school from her first day as a freshman. She even had some senior followers that basically waited on her hand and foot. She was attractive, really, and that had become one of her many advantages over the school populous. Her crush on Skinner had waned to the point where she almost regarded him like she regarded Bucket, and he was slightly thankful. He really didn't want that to work out because … well, think about it. Piper and Skinner in a relationship? Their names together almost spelled "world chaos". Okay, actually not anywhere close, but the point was there.

Bucket continued to watch Piper with little interest, but with nothing better to do while he waited for this friend to show up, it was something for him to occupy his time with. He didn't even notice Skinner come up until the blond's head was in his lap, red faced and sweaty from P.E. "Gym before Lunch is the worst idea anyone has ever thought of in the history of ever."

"Even worse than that time we tried to dye your hair pink?"

"So much worse. Like eight million times worse." Skinner wiped his forehead and closed his eyes, while Bucket picked pieces of blond hair out of his friend's face with a small, loving smile on his lips.

"Can you even count to eight million?" He asked, and the blond opened an eye and stared up at the brunet above him. The look said enough, and silence lapsed between them as they sat there. Bucket sat, staring down at his friend, just idly running his fingers through the lose strands of hair and waiting for his friend to recuperate enough for a conversation. "Looks like Piper already rounded up a new following. Gotta admit the girl works fast." Skinner shrugged, a faint smile on his face as he was obviously enjoying the attention. "Feel better yet?"

"Not yet. Gimme your milk." Bucket looked at his bagged lunch, having forgotten about its existence as soon as he'd set it down. He wasn't hungry at all. This whole day so far had ruined any appetite he'd ever hoped to have. This disaster of a day that he just wanted to be over. Bucket grabbed the bag and opened it, pulling out the bottle of chocolate milk his mom had put in there. It was only a little cold now after having been in his locker since this morning. He put it on his friend's forehead, who sighed with what littler relief from the warmth he still felt from P.E. "Perfect. What would I do without you?"

"I don't know. We're gonna have to figure that out though." Bucket said, looking in a different direction as his heart lurched at the thought of being separate from Skinner. They'd been together for so long, it wasn't surprising that this kind of thing was upsetting to them both.

"We just have to go talk to your counselor. He'll straighten everything out and switch your schedule for you. No worries, bro." Skinner smiled, holding up a thumb. Bucket nodded, holding his thumb up as well. He needed to stay positive.

**_BLAHBLAHBLAH SKIP TIME RIGHT HERE_**

Bucket and Skinner sat in the guidance office, waiting for Bucket's name to be called. The school had split the student body between two counselors for easier management. Because their last names were at opposite ends of the alphabet, they both had different guidance counselors. They always went into each other's guidance meetings, though, so both counselors knew both of their problems together. James Gordon, otherwise known as Gordy, was Bucket's counselor. He was a pretty cool guy when he wasn't stressed or tired out. Odds were the first day of school would mean one or the other, but Bucket was prepared for whatever Gordy had to throw at him today. He was determined to get his schedule fixed. One of the door's opened and there stood Gordy, a tall man with dark hair and a powder blue tie that had most of his attention. "Bucket? … And Skinner." Skinner grinned and picked up his backpack from the floor, as did Bucket. They entered the man's office and sat down in the chairs along the wall. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" Gordy asked, still focused on his tie. There was a tiny ink stain on it and he was probably wondering how it had gotten there.

"I want to switch my schedule. I don't like my classes where they are." Bucket said, glancing over at his friend who had spaced out and was focused on a spot on the wall. Nothing unusual. Bucket wouldn't say that he wanted to switch because he didn't have any classes with Skinner. Gordy had said before – with violent results – that Bucket's dependency on Skinner being around all the time was a hindrance to his individual development. Ridiculous psycho-babble in Bucket's opinion, but he'd learned not to mention it. He didn't like people saying those kinds of things about Skinner at all.

"Oh. Let's see then …" Gordy moved his focus from his tie to his computer, typing in things quickly. "Trevor Bucket" Bucket suddenly clamped his hands over Skinner's ears, causing the blond to snap out of his stupor and look around.

"YUP. THAT'S MY NAME." Bucket spoke obnoxiously loud and Skinner just grinned, not having really heard anything. The same thing happened in the other guidance office, or whenever first names were mentioned. Even in class when roll was called, they'd stand up and cause some kind of distraction. Gordy actually looked at Bucket this time, eyebrow raised as he questioned the teen's actions. The brunet uncovered his friend's ears and put his hands in his lap, looking down a bit.

"Anyways … There's nothing I can do about your classes. The courses you need and the teachers that are available for those courses leave you extremely limited to switching around. The only leeway I really have is moving your lunch to seventh period and giving you History with Ms. Liebowitz."

"No!" Bucket sat forward, causing Skinner to jump a bit and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "No. I'll just … I'll just deal with how it is. If you can't do anything about it, then I just have to, right?" Gordy nodded. "Thanks anyways, Gordy. C'mon, Skinner. We're gonna be late." There was no way he was going to have what little time he had with his friend during the day. The two teens left the guidance office and slowly walked down the nearly empty halls. "I guess this is it, Skinner. No more epic adventures, no more goofing off and getting into trouble. Just Bucket goes to high school."

"And Skinner."

"And Skinner goes to high school. But not Bucket and Skinner go to high school." The brunet stopped, turned, and pretty much slammed his forehead into a nearby locker. "This sucks! Absolutely the worst school year ever."

"Remember when Aloe asked me to prom?" Skinner said, leaning against the lockers next to where his friend stood. He took out his ponytail and put the holder in his mouth, running his finger through the long hair on his head. "You got so mad at him, you punched him right in the face." Bucket smiled a tiny bit, shaking his head and looking over at his friend but not lifting his head from the locker door. He was pretty sure he'd dented it. "If something like Aloe couldn't separate us, there isn't a thing in the world that can. You know I've always got your back, bro. I'm just a text message away, always."

"Yeah, I know." The brunet watched as his friend began to pull his hair back into a ponytail. "You've never had a problem with just leaving class for anything at all. That's one of the things I admire about you."

"Awww, you admire me? That's cute." Skinner laughed, elbowing his friend gently. "This isn't a problem. We still have lunch, after school, weekends, and days off, you know? I could always pick you up for morning surfs, too." Bucket looked back at the floor, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit. However appealing the idea was, he was in no way ready to face the image of his best friend and biggest crush dripping wet with a sunrise background. Thinking about it now even threw his hormones into over drive.

"Nah, too early for me. I don't know how you do it, bro." It was extremely hard to hide anything in a surf suit. That was reason enough for him to never surf again, but he did. "You're right though. We'll get through it." Skinner finished with his ponytail and pulled his friend off the lockers, patting his shoulders and pushing him down the hall.

"Come on. I'll buy you some Fritos before your next class."


	2. Day Twenty Five

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for all the kind words of encouragement you guys have given me. I'd been feeling a bit down the past couple days and didn't get around to writing this as quickly as I wanted, but here it is, Chapter Two. Introducing the plot device that'll only be around for this chapter and the next one. I honestly hate plot device characters because I have a problem with getting attached to them. I'm not attached to this one though, so it's all good.

As always, thank you for your support and reviews are loved! They make the writing go by easier when I get stuck.

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><p>Staring at the clock, Bucket watched the second hand move slowly across the face of the clock, <em>tick tick tick<em>. It was maddening, waiting for the last bell to ring. All he wanted was the freedom of the weekend, the freedom to do whatever he wanted, and right now the only thing on his mind was heading down to the beach while the weather was still good and the forecasted storms rolled through. The waves were always best before and after a storm, and he and Skinner had catching up to do over those waves. _Tick, tick, tick._ If time moved any slower, Bucket swore things would be going backwards. Just two minutes, and his trigonometry teacher was still talking. Talking nonsense, talking about things he didn't understand, and odds were that she was talking about a test that he had to take on Monday and would never remember to study for and would probably fail. Well, no. Math was his best subject after his business elective which he was already a teacher's favorite in. Three, two, one, _riiiiiiiing_.

The brunet stood quickly and grabbed his backpack and jacket, maneuvering around the desks and students to be first out the door. He just wanted to get out of there so badly. He took to walking at a fast pace, passing his locker entirely and not caring at all, headed for the parking lot where no doubt Skinner was already waiting by his car to take them to the beach. As he burst out of the doors to the parking lot, he let his gaze drift around the lot, looking for the blond head of his friend or at least their surfboards on top of his car so he would know where the other had parked, but he couldn't find either. Bucket suddenly felt a sense of loss, hand squeezing tightly on the strap of his backpack. They had planned this, they had specifically talked about this at lunch: Leave class, get in the car, pick up some tacos and smoothies, and go to the beach for surfing.

Other students were just now making it outside, talking loudly and swinging their car keys. They bumped into Bucket, who when jostled from his thinking, scuttled to the side and waited for the crowd to pass. If he was going to be dumped, he might as well head for the bus loop before the one that would take him home left. Standing straight, he turned to push his way through the thinning crowd. "Bucket, bro! Where are you going?" Hearing his name, he turned to see Skinner standing on the sidewalk with a girl beside him. Bucket blinked, looking at her and how out of place she looked there. "Car's this way, bro." He didn't hesitate though, jogging down the stairs and taking a close spot next to his blond friend, still looking at the girl. She didn't seem to be paying him any mind, focused on texting someone on her phone instead. "Oh right. Bucket, this is Melissa. She's new this year."

"Well, she's not really new if we're already half way through the first semester." Just pile on more bad things to this already pathetic excuse for a school year. He didn't mean to sound spiteful. He just wasn't very good at sharing his best friend. "Welcome to the neighborhood, though."

"Oh, I'm not really new-new. I live down the street from Skinner. I was home schooled until my parents got divorced."

Wow, Melissa. Way to make a person feel like a total idiot. Bucket pressed his lips together and forced a smile. "Oh. Welcome to school, then." He paused, looking at Skinner who was just kind of staring at Melissa shamelessly. Who was he to stop their obvious one-sided romance? It wasn't like they had somewhere to be or anything. Oh wait. "Well bye." Bucket grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him away from her, getting non-verbal noise complaints from the blond.

"Call me!"

"Kay-kay!" Skinner said, waving and smiling. Bucket just tightened his grip on the blond's arm and pulled a little harder. "Dude, what's you beef? You're gonna break my arm with that grip. Can't drive without that arm, man."

"You live in California. Learn to lean."

**BLAHBLAHBLAH SKIP TIME RIGHT HERE**

Bucket sat straddling his board, letting the waves roll beneath him as he stared at the horizon. He felt calmer now, having eaten and surfed a little. For now, he just wanted to hang out in the water, watch Skinner surf a bit further off and revel in the glory that is shameless staring and fantasizing. Currently he was lost in a fantasy somewhere along the lines of a Disney movie where Skinner is his prince come to save him from the dreaded lifeguard tower where he'd been captured by the evil sorcerer Aloe. Who cared if Aloe was no longer their every day nuisance, he was the perfect villain for any fantasy after all the crap they'd been through.

Skinner came paddling up, hair dripping and clinging to his face, smiling brightly. "Bro, that was the best one yet. You really should have gone out!" Bucket smiled too, squeezing his board a little and swinging the nose back and forth a bit with a twist of his body. Skinner straddled his own board, combing his fingers through his hair and wringing out the water.

"Nah. My balance is still kind of off on this board. Not used to it yet." The new board he'd gotten for his birthday from a distant relative was bigger and a bit bulkier than he was used to, but he'd definitely needed it after wiping out and losing his old board completely. "So ... What's the deal with this Melissa chick?"

"She's pretty…" Skinner said, smiling off into the distance and nodding.

"Yeah, she's … definitely something. But like, do you like … like her? Or something?" Bucket stole a glance over at his friend, watching for his reaction. Skinner stared down at his board now, thinking about the question. What was there to think about, honestly? If you like someone, you should just know. It shouldn't be something you had to think about.

"I dunno, man. She's a cool chick and all but I don't know if we'd really work out, you know? We come from, like, different worlds." Skinner nodded, squinting as he looked back out into the horizon. Bucket looked out too, seeing what his blond friend saw. The storm clouds were starting to come in off the coast, angry looking and gathering their rain. They had time for another wave, but odds were they'd just head in and sit in the car for a while. "Why'd you ask?"

"I didn't know if I needed to threaten her or anything to make sure she didn't hurt my best friend." It was a bullshit response, but it wasn't exactly a lie. Bucket couldn't do anything if Skinner wanted to date a girl who's waist was small enough for someone to put their hands on and have their fingers touch all the way around. Skinner smiled again, reaching over with his foot to gently push Bucket 's board and send him gliding away. "Dude!"

"Last one in has to fill the tank!" Skinner was already laying flat on his board and paddling back in. Bucket maneuvered as quickly as he could without toppling himself over and began to paddle in too.

"Come on! I don't even get my paycheck from Three Pieces until next week! Skinner! I need that money for lunch! Dude!" He had no choice but to paddle in faster, hoping and praying that he didn't lose his balance and get washed away. He really needed to take a weekend to break in the new board. Of course, if he went on morning surfs, he would have broken it in by now, but he'd made a serious promise to himself that until he could get this whole crush thing in check, no more morning surfs.

Bucket made it safely in, Skinner waiting for him with his toes in the surf, a smile on his face as always. "You're so slow, man. Lucky I love you or I'd really make you pay for gas." The blond patted his brunet friend on the back and picked up his board from the sand, heading up the beach towards the lot where his car was parked. "C'mon." Bucket picked up his board and followed Skinner quietly up the stairs, keeping his distance so they wouldn't knock boards.

"So this Melissa girl …" Skinner groaned as Bucket brought her up again. "Relax. I just want to know what she's like."

"She's … smart, but not too smart. Her hand writing is really neat, like yours, only you don't use smiley faces as dots for your I's." Not to mention she was a brunette, was about his height, and had the exact same sneakers he did. If Bucket didn't know any better, he would have said that Melissa was the female Bucket. "She doesn't like tacos though. I invited her to come with us but she totally flaked when I mentioned going to Taco Taco Taco."

"Ugggh. What do you see in her?"

"Total deal breaker, I know." But Skinner did like her, and that made Bucket's heart lurch. It was moments like this when he really wished he could just tell Skinner how he felt, and be with him as boyfriends. He knew the blond believed in 'free love' or however he put it, but he'd never shown any interest in another guy. Even when Aloe tried to put the moves on him, he'd brushed it off like Aloe was joking or didn't believe him. The whole … who do you like-like conversation had never really come up and been focused on Skinner.

**BLAHBLAHBLAH SKIP TIME RIGHT HERE**

Bucket sat in the front seat with his bare feet on the dash, staring at his toes intently while he waited for Skinner to get off the phone with his grandmother. He was outside the car, and Bucket could barely hear what he was saying, but he really hoped the blond hadn't gotten sidetracked in conversation and forgotten why he'd called. Actually Bucket wasn't sure why he had called in the first place, but with the storm rolling in quickly, he wasn't too concerned with what was going on with Skinner right now. Ever since surfing into that storm freshman year, Bucket had developed nightmares during storms. He'd never outright ask for Skinner to stay with him, but over the years it had become something they just did. Skinner just knew, and made a habit of doing sleepovers when there was a storm.

The car door opened just then, and Bucket turned as his friend sat in the driver's seat, watching his face. "All set?" Skinner nodded, putting his cellphone up on the dashboard as well and leaning back in his seat. "Everything okay? You look kinda down."

"Hm? Yeah. She just wants me home tonight. You okay with coming to my place?"

"Sure. You know my mom doesn't care either way, as long as I check in and tell her what's up." Bucket pressed his bottom lip out a bit as Skinner began to chew on his thumb a bit. It was a worrying habit that they both had, but the fact that Skinner was doing it meant that he was really worried about something. Odds were he'd never tell though, because Skinner hated to worry others. "Hey, come on. Let's get out of here before it starts pouring."

"Yeah…" Skinner looked over and smiled a bit, starting up the car and backing out of the space. They drove in silence for a bit, thunder threatening them from the shore they were leaving. Out of the silence, Skinner spoke suddenly. "Would you be mad?" Bucket tore his eyes from the scenery rushing by out the passenger window and looked at his friend.

"About what?"

"If I liked her."

"Oh …" Well that was a question he hadn't been expecting. Bucket looked at his toes again, tapping his fingers on the seat. "I mean … I'd be kind of upset if you hung out with her more than me. We already don't have a lot of time together as it is … But I mean, if you're happy then I'm happy, bro."

"Okay."

"… Do you like her?" Bucket was afraid of the answer. He was honestly and truly afraid of the answer, more than any nightmare he'd have tonight.

"Not enough to get over the taco thing." Relief. It was the biggest wave of relief to know that Skinner still held his friendship and his love for tacos over girls. If that ever changed, Bucket would probably be incredibly worried.


	3. Day Forty Eight

**Author's Note: **Holy crap! This is the longest chapter I've written in a loooong time. This chapter makes me upset because of what happens. I should just rename this fic 'take a giant dump on Bucket" because that's what it feels like so far. No worries though. Things will turn around soon. Not sure what else to say except please enjoy and don't forget to review! It gives me the drive to update faster~

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><p>A disgustingly pink flyer taped to his locker mocked Bucket, the fluorescent paper burning his eyes making his headache worse. It had become more common for him to get headaches, especially after finding out that Melissa's locker was two rows down from his and Skinner was a more frequent visitor than she was. He left notes taped to her locker and brought her coffee in the morning. Apparently he was teaching her how to surf because there had been several occasions when she'd appear at her locker with dripping hair and a neon pink and orange bikini in a plastic bag. It all left a bad taste in Bucket's mouth and gave him raging headaches. He'd taken keeping a stash of gum and advil in his locker to combat the situation. Currently, though, he had to get past the offending neon sign plastered to his locker door in order to get to the remedy. Just what was this paper anyways?<p>

Bucket ripped the paper off of the locker and struggled to read the ink against the noisy background. It was a flyer for Piper's birthday party, which was tonight. Kind of late to be handing out flyers, but whatever. Odds were there was going to be lots of free food and someone would be bringing alcohol to pour into the punch. Not something he minded, really. He wasn't a big drinker but he didn't have to worry about driving since the Peckinpaugh's lived only two blocks away from where he did. He'd probably go, just because he knew Kelly was home from college this week because of exams she didn't have to take. At least he wouldn't be alone if Skinner decided to bring Melissa. Ugh, just thinking about her made his stomach turn. It was amazing how little the whole taco thing mattered once Skinner saw her in a bikini and convinced her to learn how to surf.

Opening his locker, the brunet shoved his books in and left the flyer on top of them, no interest in thinking about it or what might happen until later tonight when he showed up. For now, he needed to focus on school and not whatever Skinner was doing. But then he heard Skinner's laugh, and for a moment after when he didn't hear hers, he thought 'maybe he's here for me'. Bucket turned to the source, to be greeted by a slightly welcome sight. Skinner was walking up the hallway with a tray of _three_ coffees, waving at friends and coming his way, with Melissa nowhere to be found. Bucket smiled, waved, and got a wave in return. "Hey bro. Why three coffees?" The blond teen was still smiling as he came to a stop, holding out the tray to his brunet friend.

"One for you, one for me, and one for Melissa." Bucket inspected the cups, finding the one marked with his name and taking it from the tray. Even if Melissa's had a heart drawn on it, his cup had an actual doodle on it of a cat on a surfboard. He grinned, taking a sip to find that his wonderful, amazing best friend had gotten him hot chocolate with a double espresso shot, just the way he liked it. "I have no idea where she is though. She came in with me, and then I lost her somewhere around the library. I figured I'd just wait here for her. Pretty convenient since you're here too." Skinner grinned, but Bucket wasn't feeling the love.

"So. You hear about this party at the Peckinpaugh's?" the brunet teen asked, holding up the headache inducing paper. Skinner took it from him to read it over while the other teen grabbed his advil bottle and took two with his drink. Not the best idea he'd ever had, but he didn't particularly care at the moment. "I'll probably go just so I can see Kelly and catch up with her." Bucket shrugged, taking the paper when it was offered back to him and put it back in his locker.

"Is everyone invited or do you, like, need the flyer to get in?" Skinner looked back down the hall at Melissa's locker. There wasn't a flyer on her locker, and odds were there wasn't one on Skinner's locker either. It seemed like an opening for Bucket to at least try and get his friend back.

"I dunno, bro. I mean, you and me can go together if it's flyer only. You can be my plus one or something."

"That's kinda weird though 'cause I … live so close to Melissa, you know? And she'd like to go because she's friends with a lot of people here." There it was: the avoidance of the obvious to try and keep him calm. Skinner had been doing a lot of that lately, avoiding talking about almost anything in his life where she was involved and where it was unavoidable, it was lied about. Bucket wasn't stupid; he knew they were together. He saw how Skinner was affectionate with her and walked her to her classes even when they were out of his way. He had a couple classes with her, and at least Skinner made the effort to wave every time he stopped in. The whole thing just didn't sit well with the brunet. He felt replaced, but far be it from him to say that to his blond friend, or anyone else for that matter. Skinner would say he was being silly and that he didn't see it, while someone like his guidance counselor or one of his favorite teachers would bring up his dependency issues and say that he needed to strike out on his own and learn to be away from Skinner, which was the very and absolute last thing he wanted in the world ever. So what was he to do, just ignore it, hope the problem goes away, and continue to hurt himself with how much he hated anyone who came into contact with his friend?

"Skinner!" Abso-freakin'-lutely. Melissa came sliding up on her flip-flops, a big smile on her face until she noticed Bucket there too. Her mouth twisted into a snide smile as she regarded him. "Bucket."

"Melissa." Bucket said in turn hiding behind his hot chocolate cup. Skinner remained oblivious as always, smiling as he offered Melissa her coffee. She took it gratefully and took a sip before making a face and putting it back in the tray. Bucket hoped someone had spit in her drink because he sure would have loved to.

"Ohmigosh. So I was talking to Kayla, right? And she got this flyer to Piper's party, but she can't go because she has to watch her little brother so she gave it to me. I don't know if it's invite only but we have an invite so we should totally go."

"Great! Bucket was just telling me that he was gonna go so he could go see Kelly. I think he still has a crush on her."

"Dude!" Melissa giggled, holding the flyer in front of her mouth so no one could see half of her face as she did. Bucket reached over and punched the blond's shoulder lightly, playing up the situation. Even if he still had a tiny crush on Kelly left over from when he was younger, he'd completely accepted that he'd never be with her and moved on to someone else who he could never be with.

"That's so cute, Bucket. Having a crush on someone you know you can't have is so classic."

"So is punching someone in the face." She stopped giggling, staring outright at him. Skinner nodded and laughed a little, missing the obvious nuances of the conversation for something else completely.

"Bucket punched Aloe in the face when he asked me to prom as a joke. They both got suspended but Bucket got applauded when he came back into school, and a website dedicated to hating him for hurting Aloe." Leave it to Skinner to completely miss everything and still be a part of a conversation. "Anyways, since we're all gonna be at the party, we should hang out. Maybe go out for tacos afterwards."

"I'm not really in the mood for tacos." Bucket said, staring into his locker.

"I'm a vegetarian, Skinner." Melissa piped up on top of Bucket, rolling her eyes a bit. Bucket shut his locker, books in hand and turned to his friend.

"Thanks for the hot chocolate bro. Bell's gonna ring any second though so I should head out. I gotta help Three Pieces with stock after school, do you think you could give me a ride?" Skinner nodded. "Sweet. I'll meet you in the parking lot then. Remember my uncle's number one rule." Bucket pushed past Melissa just as the bell rang.

"Never wear your underwear on the outside?"

"No girlfriends in the work place, dude." Bucket waved, no doubt missing the ugly face Melissa had made at that exact moment. He took pride in holding some kind of power over her.

**BLAHBLAHBLAH TIME SKIP RIGHT HERE**

Staring up at the Peckinpaugh's house, Bucket swallowed thickly. Already the whole place was vibrating with a heavy bass from the music playing inside. Cars were parked awkwardly on the grass, barely enough room to get through between them. He strode up the lawn, hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he made his approach. People were still gathering and Piper had assigned one of her lackeys, a sophomore by the name of Joey, at the front door to greet people. Joey was a smart kid. His ap classes were actually the classes for higher grades, so Bucket had at least two classes with him. His only downfall was the enormous crush he had on Piper. It limited what he did in school if it meant being away from her. Funny, how familiar that sounded, but Joey was doing the right thing on his part. He was addressing it, he was pushing it, and Piper… well, she was leading him on, but the guy seemed to be handling it well. He seemed confident.

"Hey, Bucket. Just one tonight?" Joey asked, greeting the brunet with a smile and a wave. He waved back, climbing the front steps and already being hit with the heat from inside. If the house had an occupancy limit, no doubt it had been reached. He hoped the place didn't collapse or anything…

"No, uh, Skinner's bringing someone who lives near him. We're gonna meet up later. I'm just here to see Kelly." Bucket said, nodding a bit as he glanced over his shoulder for any sign of his blond friend, with or without his date. Ugh, that was a disgusting word. He wrinkled his nose a bit, turning back to Joey.

"Oh, she's inside. Last I knew, she was manning the snacks. Hey, is Skinner bringing Melissa with him?" Joey looked over Bucket's shoulder, and the brunet just stared at the younger male, feeling the urge to smack the back of his head rising.

"Yeah, she lives a couple houses own from him."

"Oh, nice." Joey said, grinning. "She's hot."

"Yeahhh. I'm gonna go inside now. I'll say hi to Piper for you." Joey's face blanched then, and Bucket sniggered as he walked past the younger teen. His pleas were drowned out by the music wall he walked into, barely hearing anyone talking around him. The music was loud, too loud to hear much of anything. You had to be close to the person you wanted to talk to in order for them to hear anything. He was a bit worried about that aspect on more than one front as Kelly and the snack table came into view. He ran a hand through his hair, adjusted his vest, and pushed his way through the throngs of people towards her. She caught sight of him and smiled, waving him over behind the snack table. He found his way back there, trying not to trip over cups or cords, and was greeted with a tight hug and her lips close to his ear.

"You made it! I'm so glad! Where's Skinner?" she asked him, her voice just barely audible above the music. Bucket shrugged and sighed, putting his lips close to her ear now.

"Not with me. He's got a girlfriend." He said. Kelly pulled away, eyes wide as she looked at him. He only nodded, and she hugged him again. She knew he had trouble being separate from Skinner, but Kelly didn't know the extent of the attachment. No one knew, really. He leaned in close to her again, putting a hand on her elbow. "It's fine. Got anything good to drink?" Kelly would never openly promote underage drinking, but she knew how to make a person feel better. College had taught her well. She nodded eagerly, pulling out a thermos from under the table and a red plastic cup. He took the thermos from her and opened it as she looked around for something else, smelling the contents. It was potently alcoholic, just one cup of it would probably get him wasted. He was one of those people with an impossibly high alcohol tolerance, and this would be the one cup wonder, he had a feeling.

Kelly handed him his cup and took the thermos from him. The red cup now had a black star on it, big and bold. She filled it about half way with root beer, and the rest of the way with whatever was in the thermos. He nodded his thanks to her and took a sip, swallowing hard and several times after to try and kill the burning in his throat. She leaned forward, putting her lips close to his ear again. "If I'm not here when you come back for a refill, whoever is will know what to give you." He nodded, smiling in thanks again. He pulled her in again, leaning in close.

"Actually, I was hoping we could talk. Can you get someone to cover for you?" She pulled back and nodded, looking around quickly and waving someone over. Lucky, lucky, it was her dear college boyfriend, What's-his-name. Bucket never bothered to remember his name because he was still just a little spiteful about his existence in Kelly's life. He didn't like change.

Kelly grabbed his hand and a handful of pretzels and pulled him through the crowd, and he followed willingly, downing some of his drink as they moved through the masses of bodies. They came out the other side of the house and stumbled onto the back deck, into the cooler air. Bucket hadn't realized he'd been sweating until he wiped his forehead and found it was wet. "Sure is hot in there. Whoo." Kelly said, fanning herself and fluffing her shirt a bit to cool herself off. He watched with interest, finding he had less and less shame in just starting at the people he was attracted to. Not that he was still attracted to Kelly, because he wasn't, but who wouldn't want to just stare at the beautiful creature that was Kelly Peckinpaugh. She turned to him, holding a pretzel against her lips now, and tilted her head a bit. "So what's up?"

"Uh…" The words took a minute to form, but he knew he had to play it cool. He moved a bit closer to her, leaning against the railing and taking another drink from his cup. "No, I just wanted to catch up with you, you know? You've been away at college; I haven't seen you or talked to you much." He paused, turning his head so his hair flipped a bit and smiled at her. "I missed you." She blushed a bit and took a bite from her pretzel, not looking at him for a minute.

**BLAHBLAHBLAH TIME SKIP RIGHT HERE**

After an hour and a half of talking, Bucket could feel the drink hitting him hard. His mind was foggy and he couldn't quite see straight. Kelly had to get back to the snack table, so they both decided to head back in. She was concerned for him, knowing that the alcohol in the drink was starting to really affect him, but he reassured her that he was fine, and that he was probably going to go home and sleep since Skinner hadn't come looking for him yet. He figured Skinner hadn't showed up at all, actually, which was probably for the better. If he'd come, Bucket wasn't sure that he'd be able to control his actions in front of the blond.

He was determined to find a bathroom and use it before he went home though. The brunet made his way through the crowd, looking for the main staircase that led upstairs. He still hadn't seen Piper the whole time, but she was really the last person she wanted to see right now. Everyone was intoxicated, it seemed, and they were bumping and shoving him as he tried to make it through the dancers and the people just trying to talk to each other. He had no idea where he was going and he was starting to feel nauseous from all the movement. The hangover he would have after this would be absolutely killer, but probably worth it since he hadn't had one thought about Skinner the entire time he'd been talking to Melissa. Well worth the consequences, in his opinion. He didn't want to think about his blond friend anymore.

Finally he came upon the main staircase, one hand over his stomach and the other hand still clutching his freshly refilled cup. He shouldn't have taken more, and he knew he shouldn't have, but Kelly's boyfriend What's-his-face had been sipping straight from the thermos and was in good spirits. The brunet stumbled on the first few steps before getting his footing and making it to the first landing of the extravagant house and he was greeted with an ugly sight:

Skinner was sitting on the bottom step of the second flight, Melissa one step up. She had her bare legs laid over Skinner's lap and her arms were around his neck, one hand down the back of his tank top and the other was threaded through his hair. His hands were on her waist, holding her in place and yet pulling her closer. They were kissing. Well, maybe kissing wasn't the right word. It was more like they were playing tonsil hockey and trying to eat each other at the same time, totally lost in their own world, unaware of any onlookers who may be either on the verge of throwing up on them or on the verge of ripping them apart and beating one or both of them up.

Instead, he stood there. Bucket stood there, watching them commit such an act and thinking only '_It should be me.'_ He couldn't stand that betrayal he felt, he didn't even know why he felt betrayed. Had he not been loyal and committed to Skinner for the past fifteen years? He'd been there for him, and been nothing but nice and supportive, and this was how he was treated in return? Didn't Skinner realize how he felt? No, of course not. Skinner missed anything that wasn't spelled out to him, he'd been that way all his life. He'd lost some of that airhead exterior, but he was still incredibly stupid when it came to the simplest of things. Bucket had something to spell out for him, that was for sure.

Without a second thought, he flung his drink on them, most of it hitting Melissa. It soaked her white top and puddle between her legs, and the shock caused the two of them to separate and look at their assailant. Skinner stood, obviously angry. Angrier than Bucket had ever seen him in his life. "Bucket!" Bucket looked up at the blond, lips pulled tight into a frown. He dropped his cup, unable to say anything to the effect he wanted to all of the sudden. So much for liquid courage.

"Whoops. Tripped." He said loud enough for the other to hear before turning and making his unsteady descent down the stairs again. He made it out the door, ignoring Skinner calling after him as he wove through cars and tried his best to make it to the street. He made it away from the cars and was walking across lawns, knowing that if he actually had to throw up, he'd rather not collapse on the sidewalk. It came quicker than he expected, only a few houses away from the party. The brunet fell to his knees and heaved everything, his body wracked with pain and his muscles convulsing to try and rid his system of the toxins.

After a few minutes, the motion stopped, and he managed to get himself up and walk a few more steps before collapsing to just lay in the grass. He sighed heavily, staring up at the stars and thinking about what he'd just done. No doubt in his mind was left: he'd just destroyed what was left of his friendship with Skinner. He couldn't just be happy for Skinner, he couldn't just let him have his girlfriend and go on being miserable for the rest of his life. No, he had to ruin things for himself and try to take others down with him. That was just how he operated.

He heard the loud clicking of someone's high heeled shoes, but he didn't have the energy to turn to see who it was. "Bucket?" The sweet tone of Kelly hit him, and he sighed softly. Forever the angel that came to his rescue. "Bucket, what are you doing on the ground?"

"Kelly, I fell." He said simply, still not looking at her.

"Well get up. Come on." She reached for him, her face in his line of vision now. There were about eight of her, and he shut his eyes quickly.

"I can't even see straight. You and your seven other look alikes can just leave me here to die." He said, finding the energy to roll over and press his face into the grass. Kelly found it appropriate to prod him in the back of the thigh with her shoe.

"Come on, Skinner's worried about you. He said you tripped and spilled your drink on them." She said, her tone saying she knew something. She always knew, Kelly knew everything. "Are you going to tell me what's up?"

"I ruined everything, Kells. I totally just obliterated my friendship with Skinner."


	4. Day One Twenty Three

**Author's Note:** Wow okay that was a really long hiatus but YAY. New Chapter. Wahhhh it's almost over. One more chapter and then it's time to write Nightmares and Daydreams! I'm super excited for it. I'm _so_ grateful for everyone who's stuck by and waited, and especially to one** konasmitchell** because she's my best friend and this wouldn't have gotten done without her. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, and please review because your words make my writing better!

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><p>Looking out onto the rolling waves, one Trevor Bucket sat perched atop his surf board as the waves rolled underneath him. He didn't know why he was out here; just the motion of walking down the steps to the beach had been painful enough for him. He hadn't talked to Skinner in nearly two months, and now that Christmas Vacation was in full effect, Bucket knew he wouldn't be hearing from him any time soon. At school he'd made a point to avoid talking to him, he always had somewhere else to be at lunch, and he started riding the bus home or getting rides from his other friends. Anything he could do to avoid Skinner, he did, and the blond had gotten the picture and stopped trying to make contact. Instead, he hung out with Melissa all the time. Even if Bucket didn't want to pay them any mind, he never failed to turn a corner and see them holding hands or making out or casually groping each other in the halls. The brunet teen couldn't help but hate this girl with every fiber of his being, projecting the blame he had originally placed on himself back onto her once more.<p>

But here, alone, with nothing but the sound of the ocean around him, he had no one to blame but himself. It was a never ending spiral of hate and depression, making him want to move away or even just go to sleep and never wake up. His dreams were just nightmares, really. The manifestation of all the blame and guilt he went through every day, turning the brunet teen into an insomniac to try to escape the images. He was tired. He was tired of this feeling, he was tired of what was going on. He just wanted to go back in time to when things weren't so hard, to when he didn't have these feelings for his friend. It was just that it would be a long, long time to go back because of how long those feelings had been there, barely hidden by his infatuation with Kelly.

Thunder rolled in the distance, still a couple miles off shore. Without even a second thought, the teen adjusted himself on the board and began paddling out further. He needed something. Something that would consume his attention for even a few minutes. He needed the perfect wave, and he saw it coming. He paddled out farther, waiting for the wave to roll in. Bigger and bigger, cresting white at the top as it finally broke. Bucket turned his board around and began paddling back when he could hear the wave coming. All he wanted to do was forget. As the wave picked him up, he climbed up and balanced on his board, arms out to create a sort of equilibrium on the moving surface. It was moving, moving, too fast for him to keep up. He was losing control fast, and a shocking sense of déjà vu hit him hard. Or was it the wave crashing down on him, pulling him under the water and refusing to let him go? All he wanted to do was forget, and yet all he could think about as the world turned black was how surfing without his surfing buddy was the second stupidest thing he'd ever done in his life.

**BLAH BLAH TIME SKIP GOES HERE**

Laying in a dark room, two bodies moved together on a small bed noiselessly. The two twisted and turned, locked in a close embrace. After a few minutes, they parted, one panting heavily and the other giggling breathlessly. "What about your parents?" a male voice said, leaning down to pepper kisses along the jaw of the body beneath him. She sighed a bit and ran her fingers over his bare shoulder lightly, down his bicep and forearm before moving back up the same path again.

"They won't come up here."

"Are you-"

"Marshall. Honey." Her words were accented by some form of movement that caused the blond above her to groan. "I'm sure they won't come up here and interrupt us." If nothing else did first. Karma was usually Skinner's friend so he wasn't concerned. He flipped them over in the bed so she was on top of him, groaning just a bit when the movement created a friction he had come to enjoy over the years. The girl above him giggled, drawing the sheet over her head and ducking lower, her hands going for his belt buckle. She let out a louder giggle, hand rubbing him through the fabric of his shorts. "Is that a vibrator in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Stupid, but cute, the blond mused. Until actual vibrating happened in his pants and he sat up quickly. He couldn't remember leaving his cellphone in his pocket, but it was vibrating in a very uncomfortable place. The only thing to stop it was to remove the device and see who was bothering him on his vacation.

"Hang on." He said, pulling out his cellphone and illuminating the dark room. His hair was mussed and his forehead was slightly sticky. The brunet girl looked him over hungrily, ducking back down and going for his pants again. He didn't stop her, looking through the text message he'd just received. Taking a minute to fully absorb what was said, he frowned heavily and began to move away from her. "Wait, stop." He said, re-reading what was being displayed on his phone screen. The girl groaned with frustration and stopped for now. "It's Bucket's mom … he's in the hospital. He had an accident."

Suddenly, Skinner couldn't stop his heart from racing. The thought of his best friend – yes, best friend. Though they weren't talking, he would still do anything for the other teen – being in the hospital was something his mind couldn't get around. He didn't know what to do, but he knew he had to get to Bucket. Reaching above his head, he flicked on the lamp and began searching for his shirt, knowing it had been discarded somewhere in the bed. Melissa watched him, her frown getting deeper and deeper as he dressed himself and gathered his things. "Where are you going, babe?" she asked, reaching out to take his hand as he walked by. Skinner turned to her, brow creased and teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. Looking at her now, the fact that her jean skirt was hiked up around her middle and her bra was still on but unhooked did nothing to make him want to stay any more.

"I have to back. Bucket _needs_ me."

"No, _I_ need you. If Bucket's in the hospital, he'll still be there in an hour." She smiled coyly then, shrugging her shoulders and letting her bra straps fall from their perch. Skinner only stared, watching the scene unfold and slowly realizing that she did almost nothing for him. After the split second of shock at her actions, his mind refocused on gathering his things and getting out the door. Melissa made a small squeaking noise, getting up off the bed and coming up behind him. She put her arms around Skinner's slender waist and held him close, obviously fake sobs shaking her body as she pressed her bare chest against his clothed back. "Skinner, please. Don't leave me here like this." She sounded sincere, but she was the furthest thing from his mind. Bucket _needed_ him, needed his support. He'd been somewhat of a terrible friend since Melissa expressed interest in him, he knew that now. Bucket was dependant on him, everyone said it was true.

"Get off." Skinner said, pushing the girl away and picking up his backpack, walking out the door. As he fished his keys out of his bag, he passed the living room of the spacious cottage Melissa's family had rented for the winter holiday where her parents were sitting. He backtracked, turning to face them and hefting his bag on his shoulder. "Thank you for letting me stay here. I gotta go home though. Something came up, and … well, bye." He smiled a bit at Melissa's mother and stepfather and then left the cottage, racing down the stairs and towards his station wagon. It was a long two and a half hour drive back to Pacific Bluffs and it was already getting dark. As he sat in the driver's seat and started the engine, Skinner pulled out his phone and texted back to Bucket's mom:

_B there in 2hrs. ty for telling me._

He planned without hesitation to practically break every speed limit on his way there. He just really needed to get to Bucket. "God, why haven't they invented teleporter pods yet? Stupid economy." He said harshly, shifting the car into gear and backing out of the driveway.

**BLAH BLAH TIME SKIP GOES HERE**

Five hours later, Skinner was sitting at Bucket's bedside, still absorbing the extent of his injuries and letting it sink into his brain. When he'd arrived, Bucket's mom was alone in the room reading a book and had said her son was getting another test done, some kind of scan of his Jurassic area. No that wasn't right … Skinner couldn't remember. He was no good with big words like that. Anyways, here he sat, waiting for Bucket to wake up again. They'd seen each other once already, but the brunet had been in so much pain that they gave him medicine that knocked him out quickly. The test must have been tough on him. All he knew, that he could understand, were cracked ribs and a broken leg. That was about six weeks in a hospital bed and another three at home on strict bed rest. After that, he didn't know. He'd stopped listening to the doctor explain the planned courses of action to Bucket's mom. Instead he'd put his hand in his friend's, feeling the cold fingers and wanting to warm them up. Bucket hated having cold hands, and hospitals were drafty.

"Marshall, honey?" a voice said behind him, and the blond turned. His own grandmother was standing there with Bucket's mom, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. He hesitated, looking back at Bucket before letting go of his hand and going over to his grandmother. "I just came to check on you." She said, taking his hands in hers and smiling. "I knew you'd be here as soon as I heard what happened. You just do what you need to do here, don't worry about me."

"Gammy …" Skinner said, holding her hands a bit tighter. He knew she'd been sick lately, getting up in her years and having it catch up to her. He'd totally forgotten, though, to check in with her as soon as he got back into town. She patted his cheek and smiled, letting go of him and turning away. Bucket's mom went with her to walk her down to her car, leaving the two alone. Skinner sighed softly, watching after his grandmother until she turned a corner at the end of the hall, and then went back to Bucket's bedside to find him awake and watching. "Bucket! You're awake." He climbed cautiously up on the bed, smiling when the brunet put his hand on his knee.

"You let go of my hand. Of course I woke up." Bucket said hoarsely, closing his eyes again and shifting his shoulders back into the pillow. He groaned though, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. Skinner smiled, a bit relieved at his friend's comment. "Breathing hurts." The brunet said, moving his eyes onto his blond friend. He watched as Skinner's brow creased and his eyes dart to the call button briefly before settling back on him.

"I know, Buck. I - … I'm so sorry you're hurting. I came as soon as your mom texted me. I was – " he chuckled a bit, looking down at the hand on his knee and placing his own hand over it, rubbing his thumb over the back of the brunet's wrist. For some reason, he could feel himself about to cry. "I was about to make it with Melissa, but I left her … half naked in her room because I needed to get here. I knew you needed me … I'm so sorry about all of this, Bucket. I wasn't thinking about us at all." Skinner closed his eyes, lifting his free hand to wipe at his eyes.

"It's not your fault, Skinner. I just don't like change, but I should have gotten over it and let you be happy." Bucket said, turning his hand in Skinner's so he could actually hold on to it. The blond leaned forward, hovering over the other and pressing their foreheads together. His eyes were still closed and he was shaking his head a bit.

"I was miserable without you. I mean … she doesn't even like tacos. How can I like someone who doesn't like tacos?" Skinner said, fighting back his tears and a laugh at his own ridiculousness. Bucket reached up with his free hand, the hand with the IV taped to it, and put it on his friend's shoulder with his thumb trailing small circles on the skin of his neck.

"I like tacos." The brunet said, smiling a little bit. His eyes closed now, enjoying the feel of Skinner over him. The pain he felt couldn't let that happy feeling he had win though, and again he shifted and groaned in pain, trying to find comfort. Skinner pulled away, eyes opening to watch over his brunet friend with a worried expression. Bucket's hand went to the railing of the bed, trying to pull himself over a little more or something. Anything to be more comfortable. Skinner's eyebrows creased again, his lips pulling tight in thought as Bucket struggled with his positioning. As soon as the brunet teen stopped squirming, the blond leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Bucket stilled immediately, dark eyes widening and focusing in on the blond who hovered about him. There were still tears in Skinner's eyes as they locked gazes. Bucket raised a hand to wipe at the tears, both smiling now. "Don't leave again, Skinner."

"Never." Skinner shook his head. "Never again." He wiped the hair from Bucket's eyes, ignoring the way his heart was beating in his chest. It was beating faster than it ever had before, but he supposed it was just because he was so happy that Bucket had forgiven him. "Bucket, I –" Skinner took a deep breath, leaning forward a bit more until their foreheads rested together again. Bucket's eyes closed, though he still squirmed a bit. The pain medicine must have been wearing off. Skinner felt like he had to do something. "Bucket, I … really want to kiss you right now." He couldn't explain it, the need to do something rising in him and it was the only thing that came to mind for some reason. Bucket tensed a bit, the hand on the railing tightening its grip for a second before releasing and going to Skinner's neck.

"Do it." He said, fighting another sound of discomfort. "It might distract me from the pain." He was hoping, but he also really wanted it. The fact that Skinner _wanted_ to do it was enough of a shock that he was past caring. The pain in his side wouldn't let him care. It was enough of a reminder of what he wanted to forget, and now that what he wanted was right in front of him, there was nothing more he wanted than to take it. Skinner nodded, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath. He was nervous. Still, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Bucket's, delighting in the way the brunet's hand tightened and pulled him down more. He pressed a little harder, but still was cautious about how much he did. He didn't want to accidentally hurt his friend. Friend? What did a kiss mean? He didn't even know what this meant for him.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, causing Skinner to pull away and look to see who was watching them. It was Bucket's mom, smiling with a faint blush on her cheeks, and behind her a nurse who was probably here to give Bucket more pain medicine. Skinner felt his own cheeks heat up a bit, looking back at Bucket with a small smile. "Did it work? 'Cause your next distraction is here." Bucket laughed a little, as much as he could without causing too much pain, and nodded. Skinner went to stand, but Bucket grabbed his hand and held it. His emotions switched fast at the fear of his friend leaving again, for however long. "It's okay. I'm just going to go get tacos for when you wake up again. No big deal. I'll be back before you know it." Skinner gave Bucket's hand a reassuring squeeze, smiling as well.

Whatever the kiss meant, he was ready for it.


End file.
